


Farther From The Deep Blue Sea

by Luinlothana



Category: Blood Ties (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Lucifer deals with wayward demon, Protective Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luinlothana/pseuds/Luinlothana
Summary: Having her partner return to his duties in Hell didn’t really improve Chloe’s job performance. To the point where she really needed to finally close at least one case, even if it meant cooperation with the Toronto PD. Too bad it seemed that Toronto had been struggling with a bit of a demon-related problem, making things more difficult. Lucifer/Blood Ties crossover.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Henry Fitzroy/Vicki Nelson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 54





	Farther From The Deep Blue Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The rights to intellectual property fanfiction works are based on by definition are not the property of the author of said works. This case is no exception and I have neither intention nor means to profit from this story (unless you count personal satisfaction about writing something, that is).
> 
> Warning! You are entering unbetaed territory. Proceed with caution.
> 
> A/N: This story was supposed to be just a tiny little ficlet inspired by LdyJulanna’s comment under one of my stories. I think I’ve been feeding it too much.

Farther From The Deep Blue Sea

[Toronto, 10 years ago]

His cell ringing brought Henry out of his thoughts, as he looked at the device with some surprise. Few people had his personal number and even fewer knew to call him at two in the morning. Of those that did, only Betty and Augustus still remained remotely interested in contacting him for any reason, with the latter doing so only for professional reasons, which now no longer applied, after he cancelled the move from his territory after Astaroth got loose.

After all, even though the times when it was expected of the nobility to reign and protect were long gone now, it didn't mean he didn't feel duty-bound to hold onto this territory and, with the dire circumstances it was facing, protect those that inhabited it to the best of his abilities.

He quickly crossed the room, frowning when he didn't recognise the number of the caller.

"Fitzroy," he responded cautiously, mindful not to give appearance of too much lucidity given the hour and the unknown interlocutor.

"Mr Fitzroy, this is Evelyn Smith from the Emergency Department of Toronto General Hospital. You are listed as the emergency contact of Victoria Nelson. She was brought to us a few minutes ago."

He closed his eyes, sending a short aspiration to God, asking for strength.

"What happened?" he inquired, already gathering his jacket and car keys and heading for the door.

"Miss Nelson was brought in unconscious, suffering from injuries from, what we can only assume, was some kind of altercation. We are currently checking for internal injuries and depending on the results, if she doesn't regain consciousness by then, there might be some decisions you will need to make. I understand it's late but-"

How very appropriate of Vicki to barge back into his life without even actively trying, through the silent assumption that he would still come when she needed him.

"I'm on my way."

III

The first sensation Vicki registered wasn't unlike that of having been hit by an avalanche. Twice. _Everything_ hurt and she was finding it hard to breathe. Vague memories of trying to prevent a group of youths from going to meet the suddenly very charismatic Cascioli danced shakily in her head. Somehow, she couldn't quite remember what happened next.

"Pretending to still be unconscious works much better when your heartbeat doesn't give you away, you know," she heard Henry's voice next to her and forced herself to open her eyes.

She appeared to be in a small room smelling strongly of a disinfectant.

"Henry-" she croaked out through dry lips and broke off, not sure what she was actually intending to say.

"What were you thinking, Vicki?" he asked with a note of accusation in his voice. "You could be dead by now."

That didn't sound particularly optimistic.

"How bad is it?"

"Not nearly as bad as it could be, thank God. You were extremely lucky. And getting involved in situations where three cracked ribs and a concussion is the _lucky_ option is not something I would call common sense. So I ask you again, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that the only thing I can do at this point is damage control and putting out fires for as long as I can."

"Alone?"

"I'm not about to paint a target on Coreen's back again. She is still not over what happened to her in the first place."

"What about Mike?"

"What about him? He has enough trouble trying to hold onto his job at the moment. I promised not to involve him in anything if I could avoid it."

"You expect me to believe that any time you see Celluci, he simply ignores the risks you are taking, without doing anything?"

"I haven't seen Mike in three weeks. And even then, it was for a brief lunch. He has enough on his plate."

"Do you mean to tell me that after you finally chose him, he simply abandoned you?"

Vicki felt her headache getting worse and didn't particularly wish to speculate how big a part of it she had the vampire to thank for.

"I don't know what you're on about, Henry, but Mike and I haven't been more than friends since before I quit the force. Which maybe you'd know if you hadn't up and left."

"I never left, Victoria."

"Funny, I don't recall seeing you around lately and I'm pretty sure my eyes aren't _that_ bad yet."

Judging by the look on his face she could have just as well struck him.

"Vicki-" he started hesitantly, but she had already lost her patience with where the conversation was leading.

"Do you know how long they intend to keep me here? I have things to do."

"I'm sure whatever they are, they can wait. You cannot imagine what a horrendous trial it was to wait for the news regarding the extent of your injuries. Not to know whether you'd pull through at all. Which reminds me - what possessed you to choose _me_ for an emergency contact? You know very well there was a good chance it could be _hours_ before anyone managed to reach me."

"Who else would I pick?" the question came out so naturally, she even surprised herself. Granted, she had not updated her emergency information since Henry supposedly left, but at the time she was putting it in, it seemed the most logical choice.

"Your mother. Celluci. Coreen. Take your pick."

"My mother doesn't even live in Toronto and hardy knows what's going on in my life. I'm in the process of trying to convince Coreen to move somewhere safe. And let's be honest, if Mike wanted to, he could barge in here, waving his badge and demand to know what's going on with me. They would probably tell him."

"That is, if he even _knew_ there was a need for that. Which, I suspect, he doesn't, currently. Does he even know what kind of risks you are taking?"

"He doesn't need to. But what else am I to do, Henry? This whole mess with Astaroth is all my fault. I should be the one taking responsibility for it."

He sighed, stepping closer. "You know as well as I do, that the situation was more complicated than that. You can't be expected to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because of that."

"Well, what I _can_ do is at least delay the inevitable for as long as possible. It's not much, but it's all I have."

"Would you at least accept some help doing that?"

"I can't expect you to endanger yourself, Henry."

"You need not expect anything. I have every intention of doing this with no expectations from you. Whether you believe it or not, this is not just only your fight. All the same, I would be honoured if you allowed me to face it by your side."

"You would be throwing away your immortality. This is not a fight we can possibly win."

"Then we will simply fight it as long as we can. And you are well aware, Victoria, that nobody is truly immortal. If any of us have a chance of an eternal life, it is not in this world."

"You know very well that's not what I meant."

"Just as you know that I am aware of what we're facing. I only ask that you agree to face it together."

III

[Los Angeles, present day]

Chloe massaged her temples, looking at the stacks of papers piling on her desk.

Much as it hurt to admit it, her closure rate plummeted after Lucifer's return to Hell - which probably shouldn't be that surprising, given his blatant disregard for procedures and the ability to coax the truth out of anyone, but it still stung, like a sad commentary on her own skills. It didn't help the matters that, as soon as he was gone, she had to deal with the headache of multiple bodies found at the Mayan, including her former collar Kinley, with no rational explanation in sight.

Her subsequent fall from grace at the station probably shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. Neither should the judging looks of her colleagues, that suddenly seemed to remember that she used to be engaged to Marcus Pierce and who seemed to think she was doing poor job solving the cases on purpose. The dropping speed with which she could clear her cases probably only convinced anyone having any doubts that she had been doing a sub-par job, riding on the coattails of a civilian consultant the whole time. She still couldn't decide if she preferred that to the Palmetto stigma or not.

The open file on her desk should, in theory, be easy. A violent death, by means of a corkscrew no less, with the main suspect making his way to Canada before the warrant came through. For a brief moment, Chloe naively felt grateful that he didn't pick Mexico, hoping for some relatively smooth sailing in closing the case, courtesy of collaboration with the Canadian Police. That was until she learned that the suspect headed for Toronto and she would need to be dealing with the police there.

She would be the last person to hold anyone's statistics against them, but even a brief glance at the spiking crime rates in Toronto over the last decade made it rather obvious that the police in the city had to be either incompetent or tragically understaffed. Out of professional courtesy, she chose to believe it was the latter. The problem was, she couldn't afford to have _yet another_ unsolved case, especially when she had a clear idea of who the suspect was.

With a sigh she gathered the file and went to look for the captain. It was Dan's weekend with Trixie anyway, she could just as well go on a work trip to Canada and work with the Toronto PD to see if she could wrap this up.

III

She couldn't help but shiver as she stepped out of the plane. While the temperatures in the low sixties didn't exactly count as cold, it was quite a change from the mid eighties of California where she'd been just four and a half hours ago.

She wrapped her jacket a bit more tightly around herself, marching toward the exit with the overnight bag that she brought with her as a carry-on, determined to get to work as soon as possible. While nobody actually said that her career was riding on this case, from the doubtful look she saw on the captain's face, she felt there wasn't that much keeping her from a transfer to a traffic department or some similarly pleasant position. She had to prove herself and she couldn't very well count on the literal luck of the devil to help her along the way.

She hired a car and went to her hotel for only long enough to leave her bag and splash some cold water on her face, before she decided to see what she was up against with the Toronto Police Department.

The drive was relatively short (then again, LA _did_ live up to its reputation, so everything else was probably an improvement) and before she knew it, she stepped into the precinct, where a tired-looking man greeted her at the door. Apparently she might have been right on her money with suspecting the police of being stretched too thin here.

"Detective Chloe Decker?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Detective Michael Celluci. We spoke on the phone. We are supposed to be working together." There was an odd edge in his voice.

"Not a fan of cross-border collaboration?" she guessed.

"Hardly. Just a few too many things piling up."

"Believe me, I know the feeling. Don't worry, I don't intend to burden you with the case."

"It's not that," he protested, leading her to his desk. She couldn't help but think that the piles of paperwork looked strangely familiar. The problem was, _this_ seemed to be a display shared by all the desks in sight. Understaffed theory seemed to be more and more likely. "We've just hit a rough patch a while ago. It's been going on ever since."

"I can see that," she looked around pointedly. "Nobody from upstairs thought to give you some help working through it?"

"It would be hard to explain to the higher ups, trust me," he sat down, playing unconsciously with a silver medal that seemed to have slipped out of his collar.

"Saint Michael?" she guessed with a tone of a polite interest, to change the topic. "As a namesake or as the patron saint of the police?"

He paused, apparently realising what he had been doing.

"Can't hurt to have some protection," he responded, a curious strain in his tone.

"My father used to wear one. Didn't help him much."

"You could always wear it to honour him," he suggested with strange eagerness, making her roll her eyes.

"No thanks. My last partner came from a pretty _religious_ family. You could say I had a bit of an overdose."

For a second, it looked like Detective Celluci was contemplating continuing on the subject. Then, apparently changing his mind, he turned to his computer.

"So what do you need for your case? I understand you have a suspect who gave you a slip?"

"Something like that. Don't we all love the bureaucracy evening the playing field so that the good guys don't have it too easy, right? Thankfully he was dumb enough to pay for food by card when he ran out of cash."

"No rap sheet beforehand, I'm guessing? Doesn't sound like a seasoned criminal."

"Clean as a whistle. Too bad he decided to make his grand entrance into the world of crime with a corkscrew to the temple of the guy whose wife he was sleeping with."

"How in the world was he not caught red-handed?"

"The wife cleaned the house, closed the room with the body and didn't report her husband missing for twenty four hours. She's in custody but insists she was drinking earlier that evening and doesn't remember what happened."

"Does she?"

"Probably. But she also stands to inherit and paid for one of the best lawyers in LA. You know, the kind movie stars employ to make sure possession charges are dropped because that bag of coke was actually just some cough medicine."

For the first time she saw a shadow of sympathy in the understanding smile on his face.

"Can't beat the glamorous life in the shadow of Hollywood, can you?"

"You don't know the half of it." She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking of starting with the motels near the shop where the card pinged. Maybe I would get lucky. I don't suppose there is a chance of sending an inquiry with a photo to the local hotels?"

"Respectable ones, sure. But there are some that are pretty lax on the check-in policy. How certain are you that your suspect doesn't have anywhere to crash in Toronto?"

"I checked his family and his call history. None of that suggested anything. For any less recent connections, he probably wouldn't risk it, not knowing if he has the current address or any idea whether he would get help."

'Then I guess sending the photo around it is. I will forward it to the patrols as well."

"Thanks."

III

An hour later, Chloe had already collected a decent list of cheap motels to try, as well as received an assortment of "no person matching the picture" responses from the hotels.

"I guess I have a starting point," she announced, taking the printed out list of addresses and studying the map on her phone, trying to figure out an optimal route.

"It's going to be dark soon," Detective Celluci countered.

She looked at him in disbelief.

"And that is a problem?"

"Toronto is not a good place to be out at night, Detective Decker."

"Obviously. Because, apparently, the local police force is afraid of the dark."

"You wouldn't understand."

"I'm not sure I want to. Still, I _do_ want to catch my suspect and return home sometime this decade so if it's all the same to you, I'll carry on with my work regardless."

The local detective seemed to be struggling with something.

"You know, I still need to check something in that area for a missing persons case I have. I could go with you."

Now that was a hundred eighty turn out of nowhere.

"That would be great, actually. Thank you, Detective Celluci."

"It's Mike, please."

"Chloe."

III

It was probably because of the other cop's irrational fear of the dark, that Chloe felt a bit on edge as they exited the motel and were returning to where the car was parked. To chase away those thoughts, Chloe tried telling herself that she was imagining things and that the neighbourhood was actually rather pleasant, with the low-rise buildings and a green area nearby.

Just as she was nearly ready to believe those thoughts, she noticed some commotion between the trees that she was shortly ago ready to claim were so peaceful. Her well trained-in instincts taking over he ran in that direction. Just in time to see some young man force someone off a blonde woman. Someone vaguely human-shaped, with glowing red eyes and unnatural claws, who snarled out something before disappearing.

Chloe froze, wishing she had borrowed one of Maze's knives for the trip. And to think she left LA to get _away_ from stuff like that. Next to her, Mike appeared, clutching the medallion again. Suddenly the gesture didn't seem to be just a nervous habit.

"You alright, Vic?" He asked, addressing the woman.

"Just a few scrapes and bruises. Thankfully he didn't get the book."

"I don't even want to know."

"Figured you wouldn't," the woman approached, stumbling a bit and squinting at her, despite the glasses she was wearing. "Are you going to introduce us?"

At that point Mike apparently realised he wasn't alone. While she might have been used to a partner who wandered off at the least appropriate times, working with someone who apparently forgot about your existence as you stood next to him was a new experience.

"Sure. Vicki Nelson, PI, formerly of the Toronto PD. Chloe Decker from LA."

"The California cop you were supposed to babysit?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Not sure about babysitting, but the California bit sounds right. Nice to meet you. Now, would one of you please explain what I just saw?"

" **You saw nothing** ," she heard suddenly and realised that the young man from before materialised before her, despite her not seeing him approach.

"No, I'm pretty sure I did, nasty as it was."

The woman actually laughed.

"You are slipping up, Henry."

He shot her a decidedly unamused look. Belatedly, Chloe realised that he didn't look too human either. Not with the pitch black eyes and visible fangs.

She narrowed her eyes.

"And while we're on the subject, an explanation of what you are wouldn't hurt either."

To her side, she heard Mike actually groan.

"The _one_ time you actually could be useful, Fitzroy, and _this_ is what we get?"

"There are some who are immune to my persuasion, as I'm sure Vicki told you. Multiple times."

Chloe had enough. "You know what? While being summarily ignored is a wonderful welcome, I really wouldn't mind if one of you started providing some answers."

Mike sighed. "I guess we owe you some explanation at this point. Why don't we call it a day and move this to a bar? After what you hear you'll wish for a drink, trust me."

III

The place Mike led her to wasn't big and it seemed almost _cosy,_ with nice booths along one of the walls and a vague vintage atmosphere. They settled in a corner booth and waited for the pair they met earlier to appear. They didn't need to wait long.

By the time they got there, the young man accompanying Vicki Nelson was looking perfectly human, but Chloe wasn't about to be fooled by that. She had learned her lesson back home about trusting human appearances and wasn't exactly in need of a reminder.

The people at the table appeared nervous, so she supposed it would be easier if someone got the ball rolling. She looked the young man straight in the eye.

"I don't think I caught your name, back in the street," she told him.

"My apologies. Henry Fitzroy." He actually bowed slightly at the introduction. For a brief moment, Chloe caught herself thinking that it was rather sad that the display of old school manners was the _most_ unusual thing she'd witnessed this evening so far.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Fitzroy. I'm Detective Chloe Decker. I don't suppose _now_ you could tell me what happened or why you looked the way you did?"

He sent her a calculating look.

"What would you say, Detective Decker, if you were to learn that there is more to the world than meets the eye?"

She snorted. A bit late for _that_ to be a revelation to her.

"Mostly, I'd say you're misquoting Hamlet terribly. And avoiding the question."

"I gather you'd prefer a more direct approach then?"

"You could say that. What are you?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was a vampire?"

Chloe blinked. That was a new one. Then again, compared to everything _else_ she knew to be real, _this_ barely even registered.

"Are you? I honestly thought those were a myth. I guess it's a pity my mum didn't know when she was preparing for her signature role. I bet she'd appreciate a real vampire as a consultant."

"I assume we're talking about Penelope Decker?"

"Why? You a fan?"

"You could say I'm familiar with her work and recognise the matching name," he responded cautiously. "Do you really believe me?"

She shrugged. "Sure. I mean, I _did_ see how you looked back there and there is no reason for you to lie about it. I'm guessing that means you're the designated driver for the evening?" When one of your friends can sometimes look like she's missing half of her face, the fangs really aren't anything to write home about.

She registered that he was chuckling.

"I will be happy to oblige."

"Great. Then I suppose we should order something and then you can focus on telling me what was going on earlier."

III

Now that they were in a reasonably well-lit place, Vicki finally had a chance to take a closer look at the Californian detective. She was for some reason younger and better looking than she expected from Mike's initial mention (she could just bet Kate was thrilled, seeing her on-again, off-again boyfriend working with the woman). She would even go as far as to say that Detective Decker was looking more like an actress _playing_ a cop than an actual cop if it wasn't for the woman's eyes - those definitely had a look of someone who had seen too much of the nastiness the world had to offer.

There was definitely something odd in the way she behaved as well. Vicki was at the moment hard at work trying to pinpoint what it was. The blasé way in which the woman reacted to Henry's revelation was definitely a tell. She would have gone as far as to suspect the other woman actually had met some vampire previously, with the way she had casually accepted their existence as the truth, if it wasn't for the minute surprise in her eyes when she heard the word spoken. But then again, she couldn't be in denial about the whole thing, could she? Not after what she had witnessed, despite Henry's attempts to rectify it.

A stray thought occurred to Vicki at that point, that it was something of an odd coincidence that when they met another person immune to Henry's charms, she also happened to be in a similar line of work. Then again, was it that much of a stretch to imagine that for a girl to prove herself enough to make it to the position of a homicide detective, she needed a rather strong mind?

Still, the woman's non-reaction was a touch disconcerting and Vicki watched her closely as Henry softly relayed a very brief version of the Astaroth problem. Curiously enough, while Detective Decker didn't even flinch at the previous revelation, now she had gone significantly paler and her grip on her glass tightened. Still, she listened to the whole story, nodding in all the appropriate places, before excusing herself and standing up.

There was definitely something strange about the woman.

III

It was all Chloe could do to hold herself together as she listened to the news about the demon wreaking havoc in Toronto. As soon as she could, she excused herself from the table, fishing out her cell from her pocket. She locked herself in a bathroom, dialling.

"Hey, Decker. How's your first day in Canada?" The familiar voice greeted from the phone.

"Eventful. Listen, Maze, do you know anyone by the name Astaroth?"

"Why would you want to know about that tosser? I haven't heard about that slimy bastard for _years_ and have been enjoying every minute of it."

"Well, maybe because I just learned that he is in Toronto, possessing someone, while Lucifer was supposed to make sure nobody gets up here to cause trouble. Maze, what if something happened? What if there was another uprising and something happened to him, allowing demons to come to Earth again? What if he needs help and there is nobody who even knows about it?" Chloe couldn't help all her fears suddenly spilling out.

"Would serve him right for not even _asking_ his personal guard if she wants to come home with him or not."

"Maze!"

"Relax, Decker. Even _if_ someone down there _tried_ to take him, he can handle it. You've seen the kind of power he wields over the demons. They might grumble, but they wouldn't dare to defy him openly."

"Well, something is definitely not right, if this Astaroth has come up and is possessing a human."

"Which is why, instead of talking to me, you should be booking the next flight home. The idiot is not good news, even if he _is_ more your skulking in the shadows type, not one for insurgence, no matter if he talks big or not."

"And you expect me to just leave the people here with the problem?"

"It's their problem, not yours."

"It's mine now. Besides, I have a case to close while I'm here, if I don't want to be writing speeding tickets for the rest of my career."

The demon on the other side swore colourfully.

"Fine then. Stay put, don't draw attention to yourself and I should be able to get there within a day. Can you do that?"

"I'll do my best."

"You know, if you _had to_ run into someone from downstairs, you could have at least tried for one of the more personable ones. Azazel, for example, has something akin to a sense of humour."

"Sorry to disappoint. Maybe you should handle the invitations next time," Chloe bit back. "Maze, are you _sure_ Lucifer is all right?"

"Of course he is. Remember, don't do anything stupid."

"Just hurry okay? I'll text you the address of my hotel."

Maze snorted.

"Already have it. I track people for a living, remember? Your room number is 216. See you sometime tomorrow!"

The call ended, with Chloe staring at the screen for a second. When it came to Mazikeen it was sometimes better not to ask.

She unlocked the door of the bathroom and slipped outside.

"You've dealt with demons before, haven't you?" she turned quickly, noticing Vicki Nelson standing next to the door. It took Chloe a second to calm her racing heartbeat as she told herself that it was the call that made her a bit paranoid.

"What makes you say that?"

"The fact that you didn't just deny it, for one. Also, that you definitely didn't take the news with the same cool that you accepted Henry with. Plus, you know, the whole being unfazed by someone admitting to being a vampire thing is a pretty good indicator that this isn't the first time you're dealing with something supernatural."

Chloe sighed. Really, she didn't have much to lose admitting it at this point, did she? She unlocked her cell phone again, opening the newspaper article about the Mayan Massacre, as the papers charmingly dubbed it, and handing the phone to the other woman. Still, while she might as well give an admission at this point, nobody said she had to own up to the fact she just ensured the demonic presence in Toronto would double within a day.

"That happened to be my case. Which, incidentally, is why I need to desperately improve my clearance rates after not being able to explain _that_ fiasco in any way that wouldn't get me locked up in a psych ward."

Vicki lifted her glasses and focussed on the screen, studying the article just as a voice sounded to their side.

"In the light of your apparent experience on the subject, would you be willing to share how you managed to resolve the situation in the case you were dealing with?"

Chloe blinked at the way the vampire appeared to just be standing there, even if moment ago they were alone. It seemed he managed to hear the entire conversation all the way from the booth, over the sound of the crowd. This would take some getting used to, for sure.

"It wasn't anything possible to replicate, unfortunately. I _did_ call a friend of mine who could offer some demon expertise though. I'm hoping she can come and lend a hand."

"At this point any help would be more than welcome. Thank you, Detective."

"Please, it's Chloe. Given the setting, I think we can forgo the formalities, don't you?"

"It would be an honour to have the permission to use your name, Chloe," the vampire responded, kissing her hand in an old-fashioned manner, to Vicki's sigh of exasperation and rolling of eyes. It suddenly occurred to Chloe that she never learned how old Henry actually was.

III

In the end, Chloe supposed she should have expected things just _couldn't_ be as easy as she hoped. Her luck simply wouldn't allow it. She would ask what she'd ever done to irk someone up there that she kept getting into situations like this, if it wasn't for the fact that she was pretty sure that with her association with Lucifer she might _actually get an answer_ and that she wouldn't like it one bit.

All the same, she supposed that she was at least partly to blame this time. After all, she _did_ focus on what she'd seen so much, that it somehow escaped her notice that Vicki mentioned managing to hold onto something the demon wanted. There was no way _that_ could lead to any good. And to think all she was supposed to do was not to get involved in anything before Maze got there.

They have exited the bar together, before Mike excused himself, leaving Chloe to her (only slightly extorted) ride. She was talking amicably with Vicki, comparing notes on the experience of a woman trying to make her way in the men's world of the law enforcement, when something suddenly impacted into them, pushing them into a back alley. Before she managed to reorient herself, a shadow blurred into existence in front of them, intercepting the next blow, which was enough to send their protector against the wall, where he solidified again into Henry, falling to the ground with a hiss of pain. The gash that was running through his chest _and_ arm was something that could make even seasoned paramedics queasy and Chloe didn't want to think what consequences the blow would have for a human, had the vampire not interrupted it.

Instinctively, she reached for her gun, realising Vicki extended a collapsible baton. Somewhere in the back of her head, she registered the thought that each of them, apart from the vampire, had had a beer and any discharge of a weapon under the circumstances could mark the end of her career.

Too bad she hardly had any other choice.

The demon seemed to be ignoring her for the moment, instead focusing on the PI, who steadied herself, looking around as if trying to get an idea of their surroundings, her eyes seeming to have trouble finding focus.

"Oh, come, Vicki, you didn't expect me to let you leave with the book, did you?" Astaroth mocked.

Some part of Chloe's brain decided to be particularly unhelpful, using that moment to register that the PI was apparently on the first name basis with the demon and to wonder if the red glowing eyes were a side-effect of the possession situation going on too long. Then her thoughts switched to marginally more useful, as she noticed something the size of a school notebook clutched to Vicki's chest under her jacket.

Well, if the demon was going after something with such an amount of determination, the sensible thing to do would be to put as many obstacles in his path as possible. It was too bad really, that the only option they had at the moment involved a human shield.

Having a vague thought that if she got herself killed, instead of eternal peace she'd probably get a lecture from both her dad _and_ Amenadiel for getting herself into this situation, she pointed her gun at the head of the possessed man and stepped firmly in front of Vicki. She could only hope that the book, whatever it was, was worth the trouble.

The demon laughed.

"Oh, how you humans fool yourself, so secure in your own power," he mocked. "Has your new friend not had time to warn you? Humans these days might think they have the might, but it is nothing but illusion."

In a blink of an eye, he closed the distance and she felt a sudden pain in her wrist as the gun was knocked out of her hand. Everything happened so fast that she only belatedly realised she was now down on one knee, the power used apparently pushing her down. Still, she had to agree with Maze's assessment. Astaroth definitely seemed full of himself.

"What do you think your modern thinking can do now, you foolish girl?"

It was incredibly stupid and she knew it, but she was pretty sure the demon was going to hurt her anyway and she wasn't about to go quietly.

"You know, I _was_ seriously considering filing a complaint with the upper management," she muttered sarcastically, readying herself for the blow that as sure to come.

It did not.

She looked up at the demon, who was currently staring horrified at something just behind her, slightly to her left.

"Complaint acknowledged, Detective," she heard the familiar smooth voice and felt someone helping her up.

"Lucifer…" she whispered in disbelief, trying to decide whether she was hallucinating or not.

"My apologies about this idiot, darling," he offered, stepping between her and the demon, grabbing Astaroth by the throat and lifting him off the ground with no apparent strain.

He currently was manifesting his entire King of Hell persona and Chloe desperately held onto the thought that if she was actually seeing things, he would probably be wearing the more familiar human look.

The Devil spread his wings and tightened his hold on the demon.

"Now, _Astaroth_. You seem to have been making quite a nuisance of yourself, haven't you? I'm sure you have an absolutely _fascinating_ explanation of how you so utterly failed to understand 'no possessing humans', but I'm not interested in hearing any of it. Unfortunately, when I gave the instructions for what was to happen to you, I had not yet known that you'd be foolish enough to lay a hand on the detective, so you'll just need to contend yourself with a little, shall we say, _warm up session_ , until I can deal with you _properly_. Not to worry though, I'm sure you'll hate every second of it anyway." Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the demon writhing in his hand, the terrified look signifying he had a good idea what was awaiting him in Hell. "Now, _leave_!"

Even Chloe, despite being human, could feel the wave of power rolling from Lucifer. The demon's host slumped to the ground, either dead or unconscious - even if her experience from the Mayan didn't fill her with much optimism on the matter.

Then her eyes finally rested on Lucifer.

"How?" was all she managed to say.

"After your call, Maze rang Amenadiel, asking him to check on me."

"She did? She didn't sound too worried when we talked."

" _Please_ , Detective. That you made Mazikeen concerned for someone is bad enough. Now you expect her to _own up to it_ as well?" There was an amused admonishment in his voice. "In any case, after Amenadiel flew down and informed me what you were getting yourself into, I only waited long enough to give instructions for Astaroth's _welcome home party_ and came straight here. Just in time too, it seems."

At that point Chloe couldn't wait any longer and rushed to him.

III

Vicki Nelson had, until that point, thought she more or less knew how bad things could get. To be more specific, she thought that with the Astaroth situation things couldn't get much worse, only be prolonged with them losing their ground one step at a time. Having to face it with only Henry and (sporadically, to his vocal objections) Mike at her side for so long, created a pleasant feeling of camaraderie at meeting, purely by chance, a woman who seemed to understand their struggle.

That this brief reprieve had been stolen from her by the appearance of Astaroth, probably shouldn't even be a surprise. What most definitely counted as one was what happened next. Focussed as she was on seeing as much as she could of the exchange between Chloe and Astaroth (and painfully aware the detective prioritised protecting the item the demon was after, acting as a shield for her), her narrowed field of vision made it impossible to pinpoint the moment they were joined by another person, until he spoke, making her shift her focus to him.

She almost immediately regretted it, when she saw the red, burned skin and the huge leathery wings. Then the situation went from bad to worse, when Detective Decker identified the newcomer by the name _Lucifer_.

Of course, on the plus side, he seemed to have, ostensibly barely sparing it a thought, dealt with Astaroth, who had been the bane of their existence for _years_ now. But that was about it, when it came to the positives. On the other hand, they were now facing a much more powerful, unpredictable threat, one they had no idea how to deal with.

That was when Vicki registered that Chloe Decker actually seemed to be _talking_ with the _monster_ with some familiarity, before running up to him and kissing him with a starved passion. The leathery wings closed around them then, sheltering them from view.

Registering movement next to her, just on the edge of her narrow field of vision, she forced herself to tear her eyes from the sight to assess her surroundings. Henry was next to her, vamped out, apparently ready to protect her even when he was still bent over with pain and clutching his hand to his chest. He was currently doing his best to untangle the rosary from his wrist. She tried to shoot him a look that told him to get away but he very firmly ignored it.

Having Henry next to her, she looked to the creature supposedly calling himself Lucifer again, just in time to see the leathery wings dissolve into strikingly white, feathery ones. She blinked, unsure what to make of it.

A moment later the wings opened, revealing the monster gone, a handsome, _winged_ man having taken his place. He was still holding Chloe Decker, apparently unwilling to release her.

Then, the man looked at them, smiling pleasantly. Vicki tensed. She didn't know what was going on here, but she wasn't about to be fooled by the angelic imagery.

"As much as I would _love_ to ask for a repeat of that greeting, Detective, perhaps you could introduce me to your new friends. We haven't-" he suddenly focused his attention on Henry. "Now isn't _that_ interesting. We _were_ introduced, were we not? February of 1535, that ball for the imperial ambassador? You were quite the brat, weren't you, even for a royal kid? I did wonder what happened to you that you didn't take the throne later. But the party _was_ great, everyone very eager to have fun, even if the personal hygiene _was_ somewhat lacking at the time."

A brief look of surprise crossed Henry's face, before he gripped the rosary tighter.

" _Pater Noster, qui es in caelis-_ "

Lucifer chuckled, clearly amused. "Going for the Latin, are you? Whatever floats your boat, but _inter nos_ , I've tried talking to Dad in every language under the sun, _sine efecto_. _Ergo,_ it's safe to say when he doesn't respond it's not so much because of a language barrier but because He simply can't be bothered. Then again, when he _did_ , for once, respond recently, it was to plain English. Just saying."

"I shall not permit you to lure me into trusting you."

"Your choice, really. But I have no intention of harming you and won't directly hurt you if you don't provoke me or try harming Chloe."

The woman in question rolled her eyes, apparently either oblivious or unbothered by the tension caused by the exchange taking place.

" _Directly_ hurt him? Really? How generous of you," she muttered sarcastically.

"I value my word, Detective. He _is_ a vampire. And before things turned sour with my Dad, I _did_ make the stars, including the one you so fondly call the _Sun_. And speaking of particularly unpleasant ways to die," he looked back to Henry, "do you really expect the sight of that cross to have any better effect on me than it does on you? I never understood that trend, by the way. At least the fish thing had some pun to it. Could possibly be misinterpreted as something obscene, sure, but some thought went into it. Carrying around a miniature execution device seems hardly in good taste. Especially given how gruesome the process was."

"I will not permit you to mock the sacrifice of our Lord."

" _Mock_ it? I was _there_ , first trying to talk him out of getting himself into that mess and then trying to offer some comfort once Dad's _brilliant_ plan _unsurprisingly_ backfired on him. Which it _was bound to,_ because people suddenly loving their enemies inspired by a selfless sacrifice is just about as doomed to failure as it sounds."

At that point Chloe cleared her throat. "Lucifer? Do you really think _now_ is the time for that discussion?"

" _I_ wasn't the one setting the tone for it. Honestly, one would think he of all people _would_ understand how it feels to have a father who wields absolute power, convinced he can do no wrong and finally trying to speak up about something because everyone else is too afraid to do so."

For the first time Henry seemed to hesitate.

"That only leaves the rest of the accounts about you to take under consideration," he stated sceptically, slowly straightening, as his injuries apparently healed enough allowing him to do so.

"Accounts written, mostly, by people I had nothing to do with, who were desperate to get on my Dad's good side."

"Those same accounts included warnings about the Devil's silver tongue. It doesn't take much to be lured astray and suddenly find that one is in your debt."

"Actually, in this case, I'd say it's _me_ who is indebted to _you_ , for protecting the detective before I could get here."

Henry glanced briefly at Vicki, as if asking her opinion on how to handle the situation. It was too bad, really, that she had no clue what to make of what was happening either.

"You… care for her," Henry observed with some surprise.

" _Of course_ I bloody _care_ for her." Lucifer's voice had risen slightly with exasperation. "I'd have thought the way we greeted each other would have given you a clue."

Chloe smacked his arm in response to that, earning a mischievous smirk from him, and in that small gesture Vicki found the reassurance she needed. She took a deep breath to steel herself and stepped from behind Henry in a show of trust. She could hear a sharp intake of breath from him, but he didn't try to stop her.

"I just bet there is one hell of a story somewhere in there."

"I _do_ hope that was an intentional pun?" Lucifer asked smoothly. "But you'd be absolutely correct in both literal and figurative sense."

Perhaps it was the stress letting go, but Vicki suddenly didn't have it in her to treat this like an emergency any longer. She looked to Chloe Decker who was still standing, as casually as possible, next to the apparent Devil.

"Seems like one evening was too short to exchange _all_ the interesting stories, wasn't it?" She sighed, steeling herself, determined to move things along, "I guess some perfunctory introductions could, if nothing else, help frame this all somehow."

"Right. Lucifer, this is Vicki Nelson, formerly of the Toronto PD. You said you've met Henry before. Vicki, this is Lucifer Morningstar. Perhaps you've heard of him."

At that Vicki couldn't contain a snort.

"You could say that." She took two steps in their direction, finally able to take a bit better look at his face. "I guess I should thank you for what you did with Astaroth."

He genuinely laughed for a second. "You know, that has to be the first time someone actually _thanked me_ for doing my job. Not that I counted on anything after the first few thousand years. But you're welcome. Just out of curiosity, what _was_ he so eager to get?"

With a dawning horror Vicki suddenly realised the old book that she had kept hidden under her jacket was no longer there, finding itself suddenly in his hand.

"' _Book of Anchel'_ , hm? Let's see what could be so interesting about it." Lucifer peered at the small item, opening the leather cover as she stood frozen, staring at him, unable to think of what she could possibly do to stop the unfolding events. "Now that is interesting. Someone seems to have gone to the trouble of actually attempting to phonetically write down some Enochian. Poorly, I might add."

"Don't tell me we risked keeping that thing away from him for nothing," Chloe groaned in exasperation.

"Not exactly. Power of names _can_ be put to use sometimes. But given that whoever wrote it seemed to have somehow missed the fact that Enochian is _tonal,_ any attempts would be at best hit and miss. This," he pointed at a seemingly random word, "could, for example, mean 'bind' but it could just as well mean 'spruce'. I just bet that could get the situation confusing rather quickly."

"Tonal?"

"Of course. Why do you think people thought angels were singing all the time? Can you picture _Amenadiel_ erupting into a song and dance routine every time he wanted to say something?"

Chloe couldn't contain laughter, while the more analytical part of Vicki's brain whispered that this exchange was strongly suggesting that the other woman was not only on speaking terms with the Devil, but also seemed to be apparently acquainted with some angel well enough to be amused by whatever it was Lucifer implied.

"Perhaps I should hold onto that all the same," she heard Henry speak and realised he was standing next to her now, the rosary once again around his wrist, even if he remained tense.

Lucifer closed the book, apparently having lost any interest in it, and handed it to the vampire. "Suit yourself. You might want to ask Chloe to pass it to my brother though, so he can drop it in some dark corner of the Silver City, the next time he visits. Nobody would be interested in it there."

After that, Henry seemed to have relaxed minutely. Suddenly, in a bout of clarity, the full impact of what had occurred settled on Vicki. Lucifer didn't seem to be hostile (and if his offhand comments were anything to go by, he seemed to be on better terms with Heaven than humans ever suspected) and, thanks to him, Astaroth was _gone_. Which meant it was _over_. What she thought to be a losing battle she could not escape, had just ended abruptly and she was still there when the dust settled.

She felt a strange mixture of feelings, something of euphoria mixed with complete shock at no longer having a direction, as everything else she previously had wanted for herself had been sidetracked in the face of the problem. It had been so long since she could allow herself to really contemplate what she wanted for herself.

"We should probably celebrate," she heard escaping her lips as she looked at Henry, before she made any conscious decision to say anything.

"Now, that's an approach I can get behind," Lucifer announced cheerfully and with a slight roll of his shoulders his wings suddenly disappeared. Standing before them now was, as far as appearances were concerned, simply a handsome man in an expensive suit, looking intently at the woman on his arm. "I hope I can persuade you to unwind a bit, Detective, before you tell me exactly what brought you to Toronto of all places."

"Just trying to close a case. Nothing spectacular."

"Maybe you'd be interested in some help? For old times' sake?"

"Even _if_ , can you spare the time up here?"

"A few days won't hurt anyone. What do you say?"

"Well, I _did_ miss you, you know."

"Excellent." He grinned, apparently giving up his intimidating persona, embracing instead an easy manner of a man he appeared to be right now. "Shall we see about moving this party somewhere less… _unpleasant?_ I'm sure there is more this town has to offer."

Vicki found herself nodding absentmindedly, her mind still stuck on the ' _old times' sake'_ she heard a second before. She had a feeling that there was more than one story to share before the night was out.

III

Somehow, Vicki was still not exactly sure how, because she could _swear_ a second ago they were still very much concerned by the fact that they were facing the actual Devil, it was decided that they should all go to some nightclub that Henry recommended.

It was almost surreal, the way _Lucifer_ effortlessly included himself in their group, with his easy manner and apparent _delight_ at everything, the company of Chloe Decker in particular. She could see Henry trying to maintain reserved scepticism, but it seemed to be wearing thin by that point.

He was keeping the conversation casual, of course, trying to avoid any personal details. Not that it was immediately apparent against the backdrop of Lucifer's shameless extrovertism that started dominating in the conversation. Eventually, Vicki observed Henry relenting slightly, allowing himself to be dragged into reminiscing before the conversation started becoming a little blurry.

At first she was prepared to blame the alcohol, before she caught a somewhat-familiar word and realised that the two managed to smoothly drift into Middle English, without even seeming to notice. For a second she simply stared at the two, listening in disbelief to something that the professors of diachronic linguistics would likely kill to hear. Or rather sell their souls to hear, given the company. Now wasn't _that_ a cheerful thought.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they'll realise it in a minute." Chloe offered next to her, clearly amused by the scene.

She shrugged. "You know, I don't mind that much. Minor in history and such." She listened for a moment.

"An seyde I 'blameth nat me if that he hadde unavysed-'" The vampire broke off, apparently finally sensing her eyes on him. "Victoria?"

"Don't stop on my account. Were you seriously just talking about jousting? I understood only about a third of that."

He immediately seemed chagrined, realising what had happened.

"My apologies, Vicki. It was never my intention to exclude you from the conversation."

"Not sure if we would have much to add, given the topic."

"Oh, but you should have _seen_ him back in the day. He was absolutely _fearless_ in the tiltyard," Lucifer supplied with a grin so wide that Vicki started to wonder if he wasn't attempting to see if it was possible to make a vampire blush. She was trying, and failing, not to imagine Henry in armour, on horseback, ready to ride at full gallop. That was definitely an image to be revisited in peace, in the privacy of her apartment.

"In retrospect, I'd say reckless was a more fitting description," Henry said with a tone of finality, breaking her out of those thoughts. "Now, I believe, before we digressed, you were both telling us about your stay in Los Angeles? Something like that wouldn't occur to me even as one of the wildest ideas for my graphic novels."

The Devil genuinely laughed. "Perhaps you should use it to write one then. I'll even throw in a discount on drinks at Lux if someone shows up with it."

It was at that point, that Vicki decided that she was officially having the most bizarre night of her life.

III

Vicki glanced at a text she received, as Henry was unlocking the door to his condo.

"Mike followed up on the anonymous 911 call we placed," she informed, stepping inside and throwing her jacket over the back of the sofa. "Seems that Cascioli had no chance. His body was practically falling apart when the ambulance got there."

Henry hung his head, closing his eyes. "May God have mercy on his soul."

"You know, you could probably ask-"

"I _do_ know. I am also very aware that I _should not_. Such things are not for us to deal with. I shall pray for him as I would under any other circumstances."

"Do you find it as strange as I do?"

"I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific than that."

"Oh, you know. Lucifer. Actual _Lucifer._ Helping us. And, apparently, forming a functional relationship with at least one human. How do they even make it work? He's literally _older than the world itself_."

Henry paused for a second, clearly considering the question.

"I suppose it speaks to reason that there had to be someone holding the demons in check or they would have taken over a long time ago. Which leads me to risking a theory that the general opinion on him might be as skewed as that on the vampires." He lifted his eyes to her, studying her carefully, a small smile appearing on his face. "As to your final question, I can't really speculate. I suppose the best you could do is try a relationship with a four and a half century age gap and extrapolate from there."

"Henry…"

He frowned at her hesitation.

"Are you still reluctant to give me a chance, Vicki? After everything?"

"It's not that. You have to know that."

"I'm afraid I know of no such thing. What is it then? You seemed willing enough to let me closer to you when we were still facing Astaroth. Or were you simply letting me hope to keep me at your side in order to help you with the threat?"

"No! Of course not! How could you even think that? You _must_ know that with things being what they were, I didn't think we _had_ a future to consider."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Don't you?" She sat heavily on the sofa. "If there was no future, then I didn't need to worry about what it would mean for us. Why would it matter that I was going blind or that I would end up a burden to you when I'm no longer able to take care of myself, if I didn't know whether I'd live to see the next month? But now everything points to the possibility that I will. And that I will grow less and less capable every day, which is not exactly something that bodes well for any relationship, especially if the other party will stay young and fit forever."

Slowly, he made his way to her, using the coffee table as a seat once he was in front of her, meeting her eyes.

"That should be my concern, not yours. Not that I consider it such. I care for you, Vicki. I'm sure you are aware of it by now. Being able to be close to you was the only highlight of the last decade. Why would you want to turn away from that, now that we can finally be free to seek happiness?"

"Because you have a much better chance of finding it without me. When we first met, it was hard for me to bring myself to believe that we might stand a chance. I eventually got to that point, but then this whole mess started. But since then, my sight has only deteriorated and I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't gotten any younger either."

"Do you honestly think I care about any of that? I would gladly dedicate the rest of my life to simply being in your company. Everything else is superfluous."

"Shouldn't that me the rest of _my_ life?"

"Whichever comes first, then. We still don't know the future, Victoria. But what we _do,_ by now, know with a fair dose of certainty, is that even if we _are_ parted by death eventually, we'll meet again someday. I am asking you then. Will you give us a chance?"

Vicki studied his face for a long while, the desperate hope shining on is features. Finally she sighed.

"You know, I _did_ get used to having you around," she stated with a touch of humour in her tone.

"In that case, I shall endeavour not to disappoint," he grinned, meeting her lips in a kiss.

"What about all the other issues?" Vicki whispered unconvincingly when they broke off.

"We'll just need to face them along the way."

She didn't stop him when he leaned in to kiss her for the second time.

III

Chloe supposed that she shouldn't be overly surprised that, as soon as they got out of the cab, Lucifer loudly deemed her economy hotel absolutely unacceptable and decided to move her to the nearest five-star one, paying no mind to the fact that it was four in the morning. She supposed that, once upon a time, she would have even been slightly irritated. Right now, the fact that he was _right there_ was enough for her to go along with just about anything.

Even if it _did_ mean putting up with him enthusiastically finding a hotel suite boasting an actual _piano_ in the middle of the night. Though, on reflection, her lack of reaction might have been partially because of her being too exhausted after the day she had, to register that there was anything odd about the whole thing.

Still, no amount of exhaustion would have stopped her from turning to him, as soon as the door of the suite closed behind them, burying her face in his chest. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she could detect a faint smell of smoke from him.

"I missed you so much. I thought I would never see you again," she choked out, vaguely aware that her eyes might have watered just a little bit. His hands travelled along her back, offering comfort and pulling her even closer.

"I was afraid that would be the case, Detective."

She desperately grasped onto the wording.

" _Was_ afraid?"

The dejected look on his face she got in response dashed her hope before it could even blossom properly.

"I can't come back to you, Chloe. Not in the way I was here before. I have only just managed to get everything back under control. The order I reinstated in Hell in tenuous at best."

Even if she thought she was prepared for that, her heart shattered into a million pieces again.

"So you need to go back."

"I'm afraid so. The best I can offer you is a sporadic visit for a day or two, when I know everything is in order down there. You deserve better than that."

She swallowed. It was by no means an idyllic idea of happiness, but she had given him her heart already and it was still immensely better than the permanent heartbreak she thought she would be facing.

"I'll take what I can get," she announced bravely, looking up to his face. "I do love you, you know."

"Expecting you to accept that would be unfair to you."

"Then I guess you have my permission to be a little selfish."

He laughed openly in response.

"You _do_ remember who you are talking to, don't you, darling?"

She grinned. "You could say I have some vague idea. But if we really do have just a little bit of time together, maybe we should put it to some use?"

The look he gave her was absolutely sinful. "Your wish is my command, Detective. And after everything you went through today, I'm sure you'd like to freshen up. Perhaps we should adjourn to the bathroom. I do believe the suite has an excellent spa bath for two."

She felt as if the room grew a few degrees hotter just from the way he said that. Then again, what did she expect from telling _Lucifer_ of all people to seize the day? In a sudden fit of mischief that she would later blame on sleep deprivation, she got in character. Thankfully having a certain movie haunt one through one's entire professional career, doesn't exactly contribute to forgetting one's lines.

"Yeah, it's so warm in here. I bet we'd have more fun in the hot tub."

He seemed momentarily surprised, before grinning delightedly.

"Why, Detective, you little minx. That _is_ my favourite line from the film, you know."

"Which, I guess, is lucky for the author, because I'm pretty sure he's heading your way for writing that script." She rolled her eyes, before smiling back at him. It seemed this was high time to take her own advice about capturing the moment. She took off her jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the nearest surface. "But weren't we supposed to check what the bath looks like in this place?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews will be appreciated.
> 
> A/N: I did spend some time thinking how a deeply religious person like Henry would react to Lucifer. In the end, I decided to do my best to balance the first, instinctual reaction with that of someone who knows how one can be vilified by religious fanatics (courtesy of Javier Mendoza) and who longs for a connection to the point of easily finding common ground with someone who still understands (as evidenced by that little exchange in ‘We’ll Meet Again’). Plus, he did go pretty fast from distrust to easy conversation once he realised the incubus wasn't a threat. 
> 
> A/N2: I could probably drag the story out for a little bit longer, with Maze deciding not to let a plane ticket go to waste and delivering Chloe her suspect to the door of the suite (and using the opportunity to give Lucifer a few warm words about leaving her behind only to tell him no when he eventually does ask), Mike meeting a certain LAPD consultant only to decide that having his former partner work with a vampire is actually pretty normal in the context (and possibly making things more official with Kate, spurred by Lucifer being well, Lucifer around her) and finally Vicki noticing her demon marks fading a few days later (giving some indication of the fate Astaroth faced for thinking of harming Chloe - and come to think of it, terrorising Toronto for a decade too, of course, but Lucifer has his own way of prioritising crimes) but it would be a little excessive and it seemed like the characters wanted some privacy at this point so I suppose we can simply imagine what happened next.


End file.
